A prayer for Pentecost

Mildorfer, Josef Ignaz – Pentecost – 1750s

What is it Lord? What do we celebrate today?

A harvest celebration? The first fruits offered to our God?
Or Pentecost, the first fruits of God’s new order?
Sinai? A celebration of the giving of the law?
Or Pentecost, where Spirit prevails over letter,
And love is not limited by rules?
A new heart; the Spirit of God within us,
Where relationship prevails over rightness,
And brokenness is welcomed over hypocrisy.

Pentecost, the poor cousin of Christian holy days.
There is no bling, no glitzy gifts, no chocolate eggs.
A quiet celebration; but of what, Lord?

Of one of the most spectacular events in history.
God, not confined to Heaven,
God, not confined to the body of one Palestinian man.
God, poured out; God at work in every human being:
All of us, great and small, male and female, rich and poor.

Lord, your Spirit is here—within us and around us.
But where is the fire?
Have we quenched it with our fears and respectabilities?
Where is the noise?
Have we forgotten the momentous news we have to share?
Does no one think we are drunk?
Have we become way too polite and ordinary for that? [1]

Where are the people, all amazed and perplexed?
Do no crowds gather, asking, “What does this mean?”
Is there nothing different about us this day?
Do we blend in with the crowds?
Do we join the crowds pointing fingers at others who are different?
“They are drunk; they are gay; they are loud; they are sinful.”

Lord, send us your Spirit again.
Overwhelm us with your other-ness;
Break the bonds of our conformity.

Fill us with an expectation of outpouring,
A desire to proclaim your message
And a passion for the peoples of the world.

In Jesus’ name.
AMEN

---

[1] Inspired by Jack Levison, After the Jelly Beans Are All Gone Comes Pentecost 

Related articles

• Pentecost for the Rest of Us (patheos.com/blogs/spiritchatter)

A prayer of confession: our failure to witness

Lord, we have so much so say.
When a helicopter crashed in our suburb
We kept talking about it for weeks.

When we get bad service,
And sometimes when we get excellent service,
We want everyone to know.

When we fall in love
Or a butterfly lands on our nose,
We can’t wait to tell someone.

But, Lord, we’re strangely silent about you.
The Lord of creation has fallen in love with us,
And we keep it to ourselves.

Perhaps we’ve gotten used to having you around;
You don’t make spectacular entrances like the helicopter;
You are just there — everywhere.

We have forgotten, or we take for granted,
The extraordinary extravagance of your grace.
We have forgotten that Jesus died for us.

We have forgotten what it was like to be forgiven,
To be loved when we deserved denial,
To be welcomed when we had nowhere to go.

We have forgotten what it was like to be without you,
To be guilty, alone and without hope.
We have forgotten the glory of the light shining in our darkness,
Love drenched in mercy finding us and bringing us home.

O Lord, there is a world of people around us
Who need to know your love,
Who need light to shine in their darkness,
Love and mercy to bring them home.

We have a word to give them;
A sure and certain hope to share with them.
More spectacular than a crash,
More beautiful than a butterfly.

Lord, forgive our silence in the face of injustice,
Forgive our silence in the face of our neighbours’ suffering,
Forgive us for clinging to hope instead of sharing it,
For our hesitant, selective, conditional love.

Forgive us Lord, not because we deserve it,
But because you promised it.
Not because we have arrived, but because we journey with you.

Shine your light again in the darkness, Lord.
Flood us afresh with your Spirit of joy and delight,
Of mercy and of love.

Write your love on our hearts again,
Let our eyes reflect it, our mouths proclaim it,
And our lives declare it.

In the name of Jesus,
Our Lord, our Friend and our Life.

Amen.

 

A prayer in the face of persecution

Lord, your early followers, suffered for their faith.
And there are many around the world today persecuted for their beliefs.
For them, faith is a daily encounter,
A step-by-step acknowledgement of your presence and provision.
But here we gather in safety and in peace,
And we take our freedom and our provisions for granted.
We sing and celebrate with laughter and delight;
Disconnected from the pain of the world around us.

Lord, it’s not always intentional;
But our constant smiles, our positive thinking and our happy talk
Often act as barriers to honest sharing.
Our faith seems like a series of placards condemning others to silence:
“No frowning”, we seem to say.
“No doubting”, “No sadness here”, “No pain allowed”.
And the suffering is hidden, and the pain is carried alone.

Lord, open our hearts to the burdens people carry.
We pray especially for those who grieve.
Some grieve the loss of a loved one,
While others grieve the loss of love;
Some have lost their health and independence,
Others, the opportunity to work and their sense of dignity.

Few of us are abused for our faith, Lord,
But there are many who experience violence every day.
Theirs is a silent and lonely path—
Forced to hide the abuse they dare not share;
Love broken, twisted and bitter.
Lord, open our eyes to each other’s pain;
Make us welcoming to the hurting world around us.

Transform our faith and our fellowship, Lord,
That our joy and delight becomes not a barrier but a sign of welcome.
That our gathering is not behind closed doors and unwelcoming placards,
But offers friendship and open arms, inviting and welcoming
The hurt, the helpless and the homeless.

Transform us, Lord, as you transformed the woman at the well.
Transform us from unthinking, lifeless worshipers
Into vital evidence of your grace for our community.

Transform us, as you transformed Nicodemus,
From an intellectual understanding of faith,
Into a practical caring for the body of Christ
In its pain and suffering and death.

For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
AMEN

Related articles

• Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi (mountainprayer.wordpress.com)

Easter: The act of God that changes everything

Reading. Luke 24:1–6
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. ² They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. ⁴ While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. ⁵ In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? ⁶ He is not here; he has risen!”

Meditation
Why look for the living among the dead? Well, where else to look when all hope is gone? Where else, when cleaning up and dressing the body is all that is left to do?

And you and me? What has our faith become? Are we just dressing the body of Jesus? Is our worship simply a repetition of rituals (new or old), remembering a dead saviour?

The angels dressed like lightning have a message for us. “He is not here; he has risen!” It is the act of God that changes EVERYTHING. Nothing can ever be the same again. Our waking up, our family relationships, our attitude to neighbour, the work we do and, indeed, our worship—everything changes.

If Jesus is alive, he is sitting with you as you read this. If he is alive, he is with you as you greet your spouse, child, friend or neighbour.  He is there when you sit at your desk or pick up the tools of your trade. If Jesus is alive, he shares every meal with us, enters every conversation, and shares in every choice we make. And he asks, “How can love change this relationship, this conversation or this action? How can love change everything?”

“Christ is Risen—He is Risen indeed.”

Prayer
Lord, sometimes the implication of your resurrection makes us afraid. But you do not come to judge; you come to give us life—life infused and strengthened with love. Help us to acknowledge our brokenness today, our own weakness and vulnerability; and, in the power of the risen Christ, help us to choose love today, in every situation and every relationship. 

My Easter Sunday contribution to the Prestbury Methodist Church Lenten Prayer Diary. See note on Easter Saturday: Joseph, the secret follower.

Related articles

• Easter Saturday: Joseph, the secret follower (wonderingpreacher.wordpress.com)
• Easter Sunday: Is “Amen” the end, or just the beginning? (wonderingpreacher.wordpress.com)

Easter Saturday: Joseph, the secret follower

Reading. Luke 23:50–54
^50-51 There was a man named Joseph from Arimathea, a town in Judea. He was a good and honourable man, who was waiting for the coming of the Kingdom of God. Although he was a member of the Council, he had not agreed with their decision and action. ⁵² He went into the presence of Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. ⁵³ Then he took the body down, wrapped it in a linen sheet, and placed it in a tomb which had been dug out of solid rock and which had never been used. ⁵⁴ It was Friday, and the Sabbath was about to begin.

Meditation
There are many legends about Joseph of Arimathea, but far more important is what the Bible wants us to know. Whatever he may have done later in life, all four Gospels tell us how Joseph buried Jesus in his own tomb; and he is one of very few people whom all four mention by name—a suitable honour.

John tells us that Nicodemus helped Joseph with the body of Jesus. Both were secret followers of Jesus. Perhaps in their fear they encouraged each other in their faith.

But the hour that changed everything for Joseph was when Jesus was put to death. Perhaps the cock crowed for Joseph as well as for Peter that night, but at the most dangerous moment, he declared himself. Joseph had been afraid; now he knew that the Way of Jesus was not a private, secret thing. Jesus demonstrated God’s love in his life and in his death; it was time for Joseph to do the same. He left his Sanhedrin colleagues to do their worst, and declared his love for Jesus. The secret follower moved into the spotlight in the most public act of support for Jesus of that entire weekend.

Our Easter journey is nearly at an end. What needs to change in your life and in your relationships? How can you express God’s love in your relationship with Jesus, with your family, with your work, with the creation?

Prayer
Lord, thank you for the faithfulness of Joseph of Arimathea. You helped him overcome his fear and stand tall and strong. Though I may feel small and weak and vulnerable, give me boldness to demonstrate your love in all my relationships today.

It was my privilege this year to write the Easter Saturday and Sunday contributions to the Lenten Prayer Diary our church produces each year. It is an amazing collaborative effort with more than 40 members of our congregation contributing around a given theme. This year the theme was John van der Laar’s book, The hour that changes everything.

Related articles

• Lent Diary 2012: Easter Saturday and Handel’s Messiah (wonderingpreacher.wordpress.com)
• Easter Saturday: overlooked but, oh, so important (scienceandstory.wordpress.com)

Tenebrae: the shadows gather

The shadows gather around you.
The crowd has forgotten its hosannas;
They are learning a new song: Crucify!
Not my will, but yours be done.

The knowledge of what is to come
lies heavy on your shoulders.
There is the crowd, of course;
And there is (how do we begin to imagine it)
There is the cross.
Not my will, but yours be done.

But there is also the betrayal—
You knew it was coming.
You knew about the denial, too.
You knew they would desert you.
Not my will, but yours be done.

How could you possibly go ahead
If your very disciples were going to leave you?
You loved the world;
Your death would save the world.
But who would ever know?
What if the world was never to find out?
Not my will, but yours be done.

That’s the point, isn’t it?
“Not my will, but yours be done.”
Ours are human questions;
The human Jesus could not face the cross
With these questions swirling through his head.

Not my will, but yours be done.
“Into your hands I commit my spirit.”
For me, for every one of us,
You held the Father’s hand
And walked to Calvary.
You walked through the betrayal,
The denial, the desertion.
You took my sin and walked to the cross.

And the darkness was complete.